


The Best Flatmate

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cats, Companions, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gen, Non-Human Friends, Origin Story, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7921477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of Toby the Cat, and why Molly loves him so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Flatmate

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Day 5 of Molly Hooper Appreciation week (Best Friends Forever) about Molly's favorite non-human friend and how he entered her life and the type of relationship they have. It was inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr by **getlestrade** that went " _Whenever molly comes home from work, Toby is always waiting for her by the door and gives her soft lil kisses by brushing his nose against her ;3;_ "

She had never been interested in sharing her home with another human, to be quite honest, not after the disastrous episode that had been sharing a dorm her first year in university. As soon as she was able to escape to a place of her own she did, renting a room from a lovely old woman that overlooked a park in Cambridge. It hadn’t been the absolute best of places, but for her stay there through uni and medical school it was a good fit for the most part. She had fond memories of that room.

When she came to London she looked for flats with care. She had specific ideas of what she wanted, the first of which was being able to have a pet. She wasn’t particularly choosy as to the type though she’d been leaning towards a cat; considering she had no clue what her schedule would be like at Barts a dog might not be the best idea. The place on Montague Street was quite lovely and had everything she could hope for: a lovely view, nice neighbours, good access to the Tube, decent restaurants and shops nearby. _And_ it allowed pets.

The question had then become, how to find the perfect pet.

Toby had almost quite literally fallen into her lap. She was on her balcony and the kitten fell off of the landing above. She just barely caught it before it fell two floors below to its death. The poor kitten was malnourished and so very weak and she went upstairs to give her neighbours a piece of her mind, but there was no one there. Her landlord informed her they’d done a runner just that afternoon and they must have left the sliding door open. He said if she wanted the kitten she could have it, otherwise it would go to the pound, poor thing. And that had been that. She’d taken the kitten to the vet, had it checked and began all the treatments it needed for the various ailments it had, and christened him Toby after her father, the strongest fighter she knew.

Toby was a little grey and black tiger-striped kitten with patches of white thereabouts, and three white paws. Once he gained his strength and saw she was going to care for him and not hurt him he became quite affectionate, giving her nose bops when he joined her on the bed at night and curling up near her as she slept. She always felt comforted when she could reach over and feel the small pile of warmth nearby, feel his fluffy fur under her fingertips and know that he was near if she needed comfort.

And there were days she sorely needed comfort. Days she made a fool of herself, days when everything went wrong, days when it felt like the world was completely against her. She would find that she would come home to see Toby waiting by the door, eager for her to arrive home, and she’d scoop him up and he’d bop his nose against hers until there was a smile on her face. He always brought one to her face, no matter how dour her mood was.

As he grew, she found he liked to be active, and so in the evening she would find time to play with him, no matter how tired she felt. It was a moment of downtime for her, a moment to relax and unwind from the long day, and it usually relaxed her to watch her now grown cat chase the feather or squeaky toy on the end of the elastic string, pouncing on it like a hunter catching his prey, and at the end of their time together she’d reward him with a few treats which he’d gobble up from the palm of her hand.

Her favorite way to relax was to curl up with a book in the evening or to watch the telly, sitting in her favorite chair with a mug of something warm or a glass of wine, her feet tucked up under her with Toby on her lap. He purred in a way that didn’t sound quite like a purr, more like a high pitched hum, and she loved the sound of it. It soothed something in her soul when she heard it, brought a smile to her face. Sometimes she would let her hand settle on Toby and gently stroke his fluffy fur or scratch him between the ears or under the chin until he stretched and resettled himself, and then she’d go back to what she was doing, a sense of utter contentment washing over her.

Sometimes she wondered if he was lonely, if she should get him another cat to play with, a younger kitten to keep him company and play with him when she was out of the flat. But every time the idea flitted in her mind it usually left just as quickly. She didn’t want to share her love and attention with another cat. She wanted to give it all to Toby, for as long as she had him. He was special to her, having literally fallen from the heavens right into her life. He was her best flatmate, her most dedicated friend...perhaps he was the soul mate she had always been looking for, the one male in the entire world who would never hurt her. If only he wasn’t a cat.

Yes, Toby was quite special to her, more special than anyone or anything in her life, and if anyone so much as laid a finger on him or touched a hair on his head there’d be holy hell to pay. They’d see a side of Molly Hooper they didn’t know existed, quite a scary one, because while most people believe dogs were man’s best friends they never _really_ understood cat people. One must never get between a cat owner and their cat if they knew what was good for them and they wanted to continue living.


End file.
